Here I Am Again
This was my profile pic until today. The me in this pic was trying to come out from the shadows of extreme depression and PTSD. In 2014 I started this blog - 40(plus) years after suffering life blows that left me a mess. I got tired of it and of myself. I journaled here every day for a year (I might have missed a couple of days or so) in an attempt to heal myself. It worked. The most gratifying part of the project was that as my word cloud grew, the word "GRATEFUL" became bigger and bigger and the things I was fighting became smaller and smaller. That gratitude got me through and I actually began to live a happier life where I took care of ME, even when it meant I had to do so to the discontented groans of others. I cleared toxicity away from my life and I found joy and peace. I cleared away the negative thoughts that had become part of my very cells and learned to replace them with self-acceptance. I did not clear away fear but I did gain courage. I lived my life. I grew up. I grew out into the world. I became closer to my sons. No, I became AVAILABLE to my sons. My relationship with my husband blossomed.
Then my mother died. June of 2018. For 24 days. For 24 days she died and I sat and planned and relived. And I broke. No, I shattered. Every mistake I ever made with us is now seared onto my heart, onto my brain, in my vision. Every mean word we ever said to each other swirls through my ears everyday. Everything we needed to talk about but didn't is still begging to be discussed. I broke. I'm broken at this moment and I can't even envision being put back together.
So here I am again, facing the reality that what I had done was packed up that prior self and moved it into storage. I guess it was stupid to think I had become someone new. Maybe we don't do that. Maybe we're always just us.
The person in the new profile pic is who I appear to be today. I'm about to embark on a promising new journey as a professional dancer. I'm terrified. I don't do people very well anymore. I never was great but at least I was able to go out there and move through the world - working, performing, creating, getting it all done and with a semblance of joy and happiness. But today, today all I am is afraid of who I'll be when I walk into that practice studio for the first time and I have to BE - to be well, to be creative, to be collaborative, to be stable, to be friendly. My breath is labored right now, just typing that out.
So here I am again. Time to get down to another 365-day program of (hopefully) healing journaling.
Jumping in with a nervous sigh.